Hunger Strike
by Crazy Girl Person
Summary: Sure, he's a genius, but he can't escape his feelings, or the nature of human physiology.


A/N: There's quite a bit of scene jumping that goes on in this chapter, but I'm sure it won't be too confusing. Just a heads up.

Hunger Strike

Chapter 1: Food for Thought

People sucked.

That was the resounding though in Victor Niguel's head as he found himself trudging through a mass of them. The thick snow and winter night's cold certainly was not doing anything for his mood, and his only comfort was in the rage that boiled within him.

Well, that was not completely true.

Brushing back his snow dampened bangs with a quick flick of his hand, he tucked it back in the folded arms that crossed his chest as he glanced at the woman beside him. Cybil did not seem at all phased by the cold, striding through the powder that grabbed at their feet as though it were nothing. There was something about the way she walked, the confidence and authority that seemed to seep through each move she made that almost drew a timid smile from him.

Almost . . .

He quietly cleared his throat, forcing his eyes forward and his lips into a frown, only then noticing that his mouth had betrayed him in the form of a faint smirk. Growling silently, he narrowed his eyes, though it was not enough to stop the thoughts from flooding back to his mind. The ones that had led him to this place . . . to this woman . . . to a state in which he just barely caught himself smiling at him.

Barely . . .

--

The sound of the shattering glass itself was quiet. Nothing more than a harsh whisper among the other noises of the lab. Still, the sound grated heavily on the Head of Research and Development's nerves, particularly because it was the third glass slide he had dropped that night. "Dammit . . ." Victor grumble as he pushed himself from his chair.

"I've got it, Dr. Niguel." one of the researchers said, approaching the scene of the broken glass.

Victor grunted softly as he pushed his equipment to the side, returning to his work as the lab tech swept up the mess. Re-adjusting the dials on his microscope, he pursed his lips as he carefully gripped another slide from a shelf case, determined not to have this befall the fate of its predecessors. "Dr. Niguel?"

The agitated grip on the slide proved true, for it did not fly from his fingers upon his hand's startled twitch. Victor glared down at the tech. "What Larse?"

Larse's scrunched form managed to hunch impossibly from his crouched position. "I . . . think you should take a break, sir."

Victor kept his stare on the tech as he rigidly continued sweeping the shards into his hand. He returned back to his work station and attempted to flick the drowsiness from his eyes. A subtle peek at his wrist watch had shown just how late it had become. He growled inwardly.

It was time to check on the results of a patient he had administered a new serum to earlier that day. If it were just a matter of getting a blood sample and leaving it would be one thing. But the patient's behavior had to be monitored, which meant he would have to talk to the patient, and observe the physical the overseeing doctor had to give . . . that doctor being one Tyler Chase.

Joy of joys . . .

With not even a mumbled farewell, Victor slid off the stool, regretfully not noticing the sluggish drag of his hand until another sharp crack arched his shoulders.

"I'll get that one too, Doctor."

Casting a glare at the scattered remains of slide number four, Victor stalked dangerously from the lab.

--

"Achoo!"

Victor rubbed his nose in annoyance though the warmth of his glove did manage to sooth it somewhat. The chill was referred to as biting cold for a reason as his body mournfully discovered. Even the heavy coat he wore did little to protect him, thought it was nice to at least have some cover from the obnoxious snow flakes.

"Are you all right?" He glanced at Cybil who, once again, looked completely undisturbed by the weather. "You're not going to get sick on me, are you?"

He arched a brow at her. "If I do, it's your fault."

She gave a hearty laugh. "If you do, it'll mean more time out of the lab for you."

He growled quietly at that, slightly miffed as a rude passerby bumped his shoulder.

"We're almost there." she said, her voice trickling down to chuckles. "You'll feel better once you have a decent meal in you . . . besides, doesn't it feel good to be out of the lab for once?"

--

"Wow, Victor's actually outside of the lab for once."

"Cut the crap. I'm not in the mood for it."

"All right, all right. Don't be so touchy. Now, our patient's still kinda out of it, so you're going to have to be nice. Smile."

If there was one thing Dr. Tyler Chase was good at, it was smiling. It was something that he often did without even noticing, and it had a tendency to lighten the mood, making other people feel good and getting them to want to smile as well.

If there was one person that was impervious to this talent, it was Dr. Victor Niguel. If anything, it only enhanced the glare that he cast the surgeon as an annoyed growl pushed through his nearly perpetual frown.

"Heh . . . okay . . ." Tyler conceded, still grinning as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you at least try not to look like you're about to kill someone?"

"Try to not give me a reason to."

Tyler sighed lightly as he turned to enter the patient's room, his smile remaining all the while. Victor rolled his eyes as he followed the surgeon somewhat reluctantly. He had a feeling that the resilient pounding in his head was going to get worse, as it normally did when Tyler was around.

The sickly teenager did not notice the doctors at first what with being completely engrossed in his ceiling mounted television in the corner. All the better as far as Victor was concerned. Something about that kid just screamed "annoying!" and the less he opened his mouth to piss him off, the better.

Of course Tyler, being the disrupter of the peace that he was, made sure to end that quickly. "Hey there, Dan." he said, broadening his grin. "How ya feelin'?"

"Huh? Oh!" Dan pulled his eyes away from the TV and returned the smile. "Sorry, I was just catchin' the fight."

"Really? Hey, is that Hughes vs Torrez?"

"Yeah! Match up of the year! Torrez is the one to beat." Dan chimed.

"Yeah, well I think Hughes is gonna mop the floor with him. Did you see his last match up against Nyder?"

"Hell yeah! He had him begging for mercy!"

"Hahah . . I know!"

"Can we _please _get on with it, Dr. Chase?"

The eyes that had so intently observed the screen turned to face the wrath of a narrowed pair. Both gave a deflated sigh under Victor's annoyed gaze. "Okay, okay. . . sheesh." Clearing his throat, the surgeon skimmed through the patient's file. "So, are you feeling any dizziness, light-headedness, nausea . . .?"

"No, no and a little bit of nausea."

"Okay then . . ." Tyler scribbled onto Dan's file. "I'm just gonna hafta check your reflexes and other stuff. Can you sit up?"

Dan pushed himself up, emitting only a small grunt from the effort, and rested his back against the pillows. Watching from the sidelines, Victor took down every reaction the patient had as Tyler began doing a basic physical and checking his vitals. He took an internal breath of relief at the rare display of serious professionalism from the blond doctor. If only things like that happened more often, perhaps his blood pressure would not be so high . . .

"Mmmph!"

Victor had barely heard his own muffled groan in response to the sharp pain in his stomach, so he was a bit surprised when his eyes looked up from the notes he had been writing and saw both doctor and patient looking at him curiously. "Ya okay?" Tyler asked.

"Fine. I'm fine." Victor mumbled. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it just looked like you were in pain for a second there . . ."

"Yes, yes! Idiocy induced aneurysms do tend to be quite painful." he hissed, rubbing his temple not as much for emphasis, but due to the pounding that raked his skull. "Now are you going to finish the exam or not? I'd like to get back to the lab sometime this week if you don't mind."

"Well excuse me for caring." Tyler mumbled, shaking his head as he went back to examining Dan's eyes. The researcher went back to writing his notes as the small bit of satisfaction he got from the outburst almost allowed him to ignore the lightheadedness. He shook it off, ending his memo on a relieved note as Tyler finished up and drew the patient's blood for testing.

"I'm putting the patient's behavior down as aware . . . and annoying."

With an exaggerated swish of his pen on the paper, he hit the surgeon in the chest with the medical file, trading that in for the blood vials as he turned on heel. Not even the persistent fatigue he felt kept him from storming back to his lab, leaving a perturbed pair behind.

Dan rolled his eyes. "That guy needs to get laid."

--

Victor was still shaking under the heavy coat she had let him borrow. Leaning against a wall, he looked up at the neon signs of the downtown area. Evidently, this noodle place was quite popular. Even the witching hour did not stop the small corner store from being packed to near capacity. Victor had opted to wait outside, deciding that the cold was slightly less intolerable than the crowd.

His breath misted before him as he let out a heavy sigh. In addition to the restaurant, this entire block of the city was still busy despite the time, though he could have done without the company the late hour brought. Speaking of which . . .

"Hey, buddy . . ."

Victor growled at the slurred voice. Unsteady footsteps crunched in the snow layered sidewalk as a figure stumbled before him. "Aw man . . . I'm sooo wasted."

"Clearly," Victor grumbled. "Now get the hell away from me."

"Aw man . . . you don't understand! My friends just ditched me here . . . I can't get home . . ."

"Shoulda thought of that before you got shit faced."

The annoyance that had narrowed his eyes was replaced with shock as the man grabbed onto his collar. "You're an asshole!" Victor could practically taste the whiskey on his breath, further inching away when his glassy eyes began to leak. "I'm stuck here and I'm drunk and I don't have any money!" the man sobbed. "Give me some money! I just wanna go home!"

"Gah!" Victor grunted as he was slammed against the wall, his shoulders shaken with each sob that racked the drunken man's body. "Get the hell off me!" He grabbed the man's wrists and pushed him away. He flailed his arms wildly to keep from losing his balance, a snarl cutting through his face as he awkwardly found his footing. Drawing a beam on the researcher, the man stomped forward, taking no more than a step before a foot pushed him to the ground.

"All right, buddy, hit the road."

Victor looked over at the strong voice. The irate man clumsily tried to pick himself up, but could only freeze upon glancing up at the advancing woman. Cybil stood over him, the neon gleam on her glasses only intensifying her sharp glare. Victor smirked quietly to himself. He had to admire how she managed to look menacing, even while holding a pair of steaming noodle cups.

"If you need a ride home, just go to any bar. They're required by law to call a taxi for you free of charge."

He inched away before weakly getting to his feet. Cybil turned towards Victor as the man all but limped off with his tail between his legs.

--

The blood samples were given to the lab tech and Victor allowed himself to settle back onto his work bench. An irate sigh escaped him, growing ragged as his breath ran out. He clenched his fists to still the shaking and bit his lip. _'Dammit . . .'_

The lightheadedness was starting to be a real pain in the ass. Whatever . . .

He grabbed for his file once the trembling in his hands died down. The cultures he had been monitoring were doing surprisingly well. It certainly gave him more information he had anticipated to work with. All for the better . . . there was a lot to be done. Too much for him to be concerned about the mounting pain and nausea in his stomach or the constant throbbing in his head. Though the shake of his hands was something to take into consideration as he could not afford to lose anymore slides that night. Nothing holding his breath and forcing his grip on the equipment as he gathered the culture samples could not cure.

'_You should eat something . . .'_

Victor scoffed softly at that before shoving that bothersome thought in the back of his mind. Eating would mean leaving the lab, which in turn would mean leaving his work behind. That was a waste of time . . . he had more important things to do.

"Dr. Niguel?"

He made no effort to hide his annoyance at Larse's voice, groaning and cringing, but refusing to remove his eye from the microscope. "What?" he hissed.

"Your . . . your shift ended two hours ago." Larse stuttered, rubbing his neck nervously.

"And?"

"And the chief wants you to clock out and call it a night."

"And?"

". . . and he said he'd personally have you removed if you did not leave on your own."

The fingers that had been tuning the scope's dial stopped, tightening their grip as a growl rose in Victor's throat. Sidney may be a stubborn man, but he had another thing coming if he thought he was going to keep him from his work. He sighed through his teeth, sliding off his work bench and sending it toppling to the floor as he tried to regain his footing. The dizzy spell struck him abruptly, as though to supplement the annoyance from Sidney's order, forcing him to cling to the counter as he steadied himself.

"Sir! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!" he snapped, pushing Larse away as he regained his balance.

He stormed from the room, muttering curses under his breath and stomping down the hall towards the chief director's office. _'Dammit! Doesn't Kasal know nothing'll get done if I don't do it?'_ The power behind his anger driven steps left much to be desired as his starved body was scarcely able to hold him up. Though he was able to ignore the shaking, there was little that could be done about the dizzy spell that bled through his head. He paused, his body swaying as his eyes closed. The hall was quick to settle, allowing for him to continue on, though not before a curious pair of eyes caught his plight.

--

"You okay?"

Victor casually straightened the wrinkles in his jacket where the man had grabbed him. "Yeah, he was too drunk to have done anything anyway, but thanks for getting rid of him."

"No problem. I'd have felt horrible if you ended up getting mugged, seeing as I'm the reason you're out here." She handed him a steaming noodle cup and pair of chopsticks. "Here. Hot 'n Sour Squid, just how you like it."

Victor gave a weak smile as he took the cup. Cybil was one of the few people who knew about this food preferences. "Thanks . . ." He peeled the lid back and stirred the brothy noodles with the chopsticks, taking in the warmth from the rising column of steam. The two shared a silent moment as they ate, the store canopy protecting them from the gentle flurry.

--

"Victor!"

He whipped around at the startling voice, surprised to see Cybil standing beside him. "I've been trying to get your attention for a whole minute. You okay?"

"Fine." he said, leaving it at that as he turned to walk onward. The shorter and sweeter, the better. At the very least he could hope that she would find nothing to prod at about the subject. Of course, luck and Victor had never had a good relationship.

"Don't lie to me. It's obvious you're not feeling well." she said, walking right on his heels.

He sighed heavily. Perhaps he could also place some of the blame with the Iron Vixen's stubbornness to never let anything go. "I'm a little tired. I'm going home."

"Under your own discretion? You _really_ aren't feeling well, are you?"

He picked up the pace of his walk, not bothering to give her as much as a glance over his shoulder. He should have anticipated that Cybil would have no tolerance for that, though the hand that grabbed his arm was still rather startling. "Not so fast." she commanded, turning him back to face her.

"Dr. Myers, what are you . . .?" He trailed off as she pressed her hand to his forehead and pushed his bangs back. He allowed himself a small gape in surprise, unable to notice anything but the copper eyes before him. The woman's narrowed gaze stared back before slowly tracing down his body, scrutinizing every detail they spotted. Thankfully they managed to miss the flush that overcame the researcher's face, something that he told himself was a result of overwhelming surprise at her actions. Just surprise . . . nothing more . . .

The crease in the doctor's brow tightened, her eyes narrowing further as she grabbed his wrist. He flinched as she all but shoved his own hand in his face, her eyes boring into him menacingly. "Your hand's shaking."

"Yes, I see that . . ." Victor said.

Cybil frowned, slimming her eyes even further in a way only someone known as "The Iron Vixen" could pull off. "You're skipping meals."

He growled quietly and diverted his gaze. "That's not your concern."

"It is if you start making yourself sick. Honestly Victor, you should know better."

"Yeah, I know better all right." He scoffed as he turned his head back towards her. "I know better than to leave the lab in the hands of those incompetent slackers for a moment."

"You really need to put some faith into your team, Victor. Not everyone can be glued to their work station for hours on end, and have they ever _really_ let you down?"

Victor said nothing, crossing his arms back over his chest the moment she released his hand. He would have liked to storm off at that moment but that pestering dizziness was at it again and he would rather not have her see him stumble. So there he stood, doing all he could to force the world to stop spinning, but that small delay was all Cybil needed. "Let's go. I'll take you home."

"Huh?"

"You weren't seriously thinking about driving in your condition, were you? I'm surprised you can even stand on your own two feet. You look like you're about to -" She blinked in surprise at the groan that cut her off, watching as the man before her began to sway unsteadily. "Victor? Are you alright?"

"I'm . . . I . . ." He sighed through a feeble grit of his teeth, the light headedness drawing his breath thin. She grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling him collapse in her grasp even as she tried to steady him. "Hey! Stay with me!"

He grabbed onto her wrist, his brow creasing as he attempted to fight through the dizziness. His efforts to push her off of him were in vain, as even in good health the former police woman would easily outmuscle him. If anything, it only encouraged her to tighten her grip. "Victor, you've got to let me help you! I'm getting back up-"

"N-no . . ."

"No?" she scoffed. "I'm getting back up, whether you like it or . ."

"No, I . . .I'm . . . fine. . . ungh . ."

The weak grip on her wrist slipped, leaving his hand to dangle at his side as the rest of his body went limp. For a brief moment, panic flashed over the Iron Vixen's eyes as the researcher passed out in her arms, but their feral nature returned as she squeezed them into slits. She gently lowered him to the floor and reached for her radio. "I need back up on the forth floor, near the lab. Bring a stretcher."

"_We're on our way, Dr. Myers."_

"Thank you."

Her lips pursed as she clipped the radio back onto her belt. She gently tilted his head to the side to make sure his airway remained clear, ruffling his bangs in the process and causing them to sweep over his eyes. She brushed them back, frowning as she looked over the pale, thin young man who, if she was not mistaken, had gotten . . . thinner . . .

"Victor, you son of a bitch. What have you done to yourself?"

--

A/N: Well, first part of a two part fic. At least I'm planning on it being two parts . . . may break the second part into three if I get lazy. Boooo lazy! Anyway, comments are appreciated, as always!


End file.
